


I'd Still Choose You

by CelesteSkyeHolmes



Category: Little Women (1994), Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteSkyeHolmes/pseuds/CelesteSkyeHolmes
Summary: “I needed you, Teddy. Beth was dying, Meg was gone, and Amy was with you. I had no one.”Happy endings aren't always what they're made out to be, but Jo knew of no other way.
Relationships: Amy March/Fred Vaughn, Friedrich Bhaer/Josephine March, Theodore Laurence/Amy March, Theodore Laurence/Josephine March
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120





	I'd Still Choose You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago, and now seems like a good time to share it. Stay safe wherever you are, and please let me know what you think! Happy reading!

_ My dear Teddy, I miss you more than I can express. I used to think that the worst fate was to be a wife, I was young and stupid. But now I have changed. The worst fate is to live my life without you in it. I was wrong to turn you down and to run away to New York. _

...  


“We wanted to get married right away, but it wouldn’t have been the same without all of you there.”

Jo smiled as she entered the living room, listening to Amy’s praise about the grandeurs of London and Paris to their parents. It had been a few months since Beth had died, a few months since there had been any joy in the home. Even her ramblings about Notre Dame sounded like music to Jo when compared to the loneliness she had felt that very morning.

Beth’s death permeated a stillness in the air, pronounced by the absence of her remaining sisters. While they had received baskets of food and many condolences, few visitors came to see the March family. And none of them ever stayed long enough to fill the void. 

Amy’s return was welcomed by all. What Jo did not expect to find was Laurie by her sister’s side. 

They had not spoken in over a year, not since he had proposed to her that fateful day. It made more sense to her now when Jo noticed the grand ring on Amy’s finger. The proximity between them seemed negligible, and surprised her when she failed to recall a time when Laurie took notice of her younger sister. She searched for signs of  _ her  _ Teddy, of the youthful boy she had grown up with, but could find them nowhere.

Laurie appeared changed in both his manner and appearance. His dark hair that Jo had fondly spent many summer days playing with, was now neatly trimmed and showed off his sharp jaw. There was a liveliness to his eyes that brightened whenever he was addressed to. He reclined into his chair revealing a neatly pressed vest of a faint grey, one she had not seen before. It was masked by a darker coat he wore over it that displayed his strong arms. She concluded that he must have made himself useful in Europe, and sighed knowing that she still found him comelier than ever.

Laurie nodded as Jo made her way to greet him, but made no intention to receive her. Instead she embraced Amy with a hearty congratulations and sat beside Marmee, trying to come up with an excuse to leave.

“What a refined gentleman you are,” Marmee remarked. “Had I not known any better, I would’ve thought that my poor Jo was a stranger to you.”

He smiled pleasantly, but did not mistake her tone.

“I had barely recognised Jo myself,” he said. “It has been so long since I’ve had the pleasure of such wonderful company. Marmee, you know that I could never forget about you or any of your lovely girls.”

“What about me?” Mr. March asked sheepishly.

“Why, you’re my favourite of all!” Laurie replied.

They laughed as Jo made leave, mumbling that she had a headache and was going for a walk in the woods.

…

Jo retrieved a letter from the postbox and ran until she reached the bridge by the end of the lake. It was the one piece of herself she could reclaim that was etched with Laurie’s name.

Her hopes of love would dissipate into the water like the distant memories of her childhood. Like the hazy afternoons when Beth was well and they could vacation by the beach carelessly. Or the days when she could tell Laurie everything and not pretend that all of it would be okay because things were exactly as they should be.

Jo had become so preoccupied in her thoughts that she did not notice the footsteps behind her. Startled by a familiar voice, she stumbled on her dress and turned to face Laurie.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, leaning against the railing beside her. 

“I don’t think you could have if you tried,” Jo jested, turning towards him. 

Laurie smiled for a moment, but his eyes clouded over when he saw the letter in her hands.

“When were you going to give me that?” he asked, pointing to the envelope.

The front was adorned with his name in calligraphy. Jo had spent hours perfecting her penmanship, and unburdening her heart in an eloquent manner. She had written about how much she missed him, and her regret in rejecting his proposal. It had been short and urgent, but the message had never been delivered. And it seemed too late for that now.

The ink was faded, with the letter  _ e _ being barely distinguishable from a  _ c _ . Jo hoped that the contents which it contained were just as illegible. 

Laurie was quiet, and waited for her reply. He averted his gaze, trying to avoid repeating their last argument.

“What difference does it make? It’s not like you were going to read it anyway,” she replied coolly.

She was referring to the countless letters she had written to him while he had been away. To none had she received a response.

“I tried,” he said, his voice breaking off as he tried to read her face. “But all my work was done in vain. I’ve spent the past eighteen months trying to get over you, Jo. I never knew how to be your friend.”

“I needed you, Teddy. Beth was dying, Meg was gone, and Amy was with you. I had no one.”

Her voice grew shaky, and Laurie walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m here now, Jo. I didn’t know about Beth until Amy told me, but I’m here now. Please forgive me for taking so long to come back to you.”

Jo sniffed, and nestled her head into Laurie’s chest. They stood together silently for a while, mourning Beth in their own ways.

...

"Why didn't you talk to me?" Jo finally asked, releasing herself from his arms.

He had grown up without her, and all she received were fragments from Amy’s vivacious letters about how accomplished Laurie had become.

"I didn’t know how to,” he said, still leaning into her body. “We've always shared everything, Jo. I didn't know what I could say that would bring any comfort to you. Or to myself."

“You don’t get it, Teddy. I didn’t need you to comfort me, I just needed you to be there. Whatever happened to our friendship, to standing by each other through all our days?”

“There’s so much that I’ve done, so much that I’m not proud of. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint you.”

“You’re not a disappointment to me, Teddy.”

“Then why are you hiding that letter from me?”

His voice was soft and solemn, leaving behind no traces of remorse. 

“It was something foolish, let’s just forget about it,” she said, waving her hand to dismiss the idea.

“I’ve known you since I was fifteen, Jo. You don’t need to lie to me,” Laurie said, his eyes growing sly as he recalled a childhood memory.

He hovered over her but his eyes were what made her blush.

They had played a game of Truth one time when Laurie had asked Jo what she wished for most. She had replied that she liked boot lacings, and teased Laurie about getting them for her. It was one of the very few accounts upon which she had avoided something from him.

Jo turned away, trying to seperate the memory from her present reality.

“For the first time in my life, I think I wrote something that hurt me,” she said. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but seeing you now, I think that time has passed.”

Laurie clasped his hands into hers as Jo closed her eyes.

“Laurie, I don’t know what to do with you,” she said.

“I thought you loved me, Jo,” he said, letting her go. “But you told me that could never be. So I’m trying to be your friend.”

“I do love you,” she said.

“Not in the same way.”

“Not in what way? You’re going to marry Amy.”

Laurie laughed, and she turned around in amusement.

“What gave you that impression? Amy is marrying Fred Vaughn. I’m surprised you think so low of me Jo, I would never do that to you. You know I like you best.”

"But I could have been certain-"

"Amy asked me to accompany her home. Fred wanted to come sooner, but he had some urgent matters to attend. He should arrive within a couple of weeks."

“Then why were you so cold to me?”

“I couldn't listen to you talk about that old professor of yours. It’s all I’ve heard about these past few months, Amy said you had your eyes set on him. I would have gone half-mad had grandfather not persuaded me to work.”

Jo never understood Laurie’s apprehension towards Friedrich, and merely shook her head.

“I don’t think there’s been a man who’s hated my work more,” she said.

“Well I daresay that’s his loss,” Laurie said, cocking his head. “You’re the greatest writer I ever knew.”

She smiled at this, but Laurie’s face darkened.

“I’m worried about you, Jo,” he said. “Since when have you ever written anything you didn’t want me to read?”

“It’s not about my writing,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat.

Laurie sensed her uneasiness and nodded.

“I see. If you have nothing else to say to me, I’ll be on my way.”

He began to walk away, but turned around when Jo cried out his name.

“Laurie, are you upset with me?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he smiled. “I’m glad we’re friends again, Jo.”

_ Friends. _ The word pricked at her heart as she watched Laurie’s silhouette shrink with every step he took. Only when she was in the solitude of her room did she let herself cry. Jo felt as if she had lost Laurie forever, and somehow this felt more permanent than when she had rejected his proposal. But even then, she didn’t have it in her to destroy the letter she had poured her life into. Instead, it sat atop of her dresser, taunting her to try again. 

Maybe she would, but not today. And not before the return of an old acquaintance. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you need someone to talk to or just want to say hello, please don't hesitate to reach my [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/holmespoems/)!


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